Then he walked to the part of my living room that had the kitchen area in it, and he began dicing onions and throwing them in a pot with some olive oil, which he’d also pulled out of his backpack.

“What are you doing?” I asked, watching him from my place on the couch.

“Chicken soup,” he said. “It’s a Gold family recipe. And there’s actually scientific backing to why it’ll make you feel better. Bone broth is good for you—it has iron, zinc, amino acids; so is garlic, it’s an antioxidant with diallyl sulfide; liquids are always good to keep things moving around in your body; and the heat will break up mucus.”

“So I’ll be healed up in no time,” I said, watching him cut up the chicken.

“That’s the plan,” he said, smiling over at me. “But I’ll come and take care of you as long as you need me to.”

It might have been the fever, or the fact that I’d been feeling sick for days, but when he said that, it brought tears to my eyes. When I was a kid, I always tried to take care of myself, whenever I could, because moving around was hard for my mom, especially when she had a flare-up. And Ari and I tried to take care of each other if we couldn’t manage it alone, especially after my mom got really sick. It was hard for her to do much caring for anyone else—and your grandpa was so preoccupied with her. I felt bad when I needed them and tried not to. Now that I’m thinking about it, that’s probably why I never told your grandfather about you, about how messed up I was that year. But Ezra acted like taking care of someone wasn’t a big deal. He said he’d do it for as long as I needed him to.

“I love you,” I told him from the couch that day. It was the first time I said that to him.

“I love you, too,” he said. “But maybe you’d already noticed.”

I hadn’t. Or maybe I had. But hearing it was so wonderful. Knowing that I didn’t always have to fend for myself—or count on Ari.

—

That was what popped into my head when he took my hand and slipped the ring on my finger. Somehow he’d figured out my size. And that, too, was perfect.

“It’s three diamonds,” he said. “For our past, our present, and our future.”

I looked down at my hand, and there they were, three round diamonds all lined up, all the exact same size. His promise to me that we’d be with each other forever.

We kissed then, on the lifeguard chair, with the waves crashing, the wind in our hair, both smelling like sunscreen and the sea. I never wanted that moment to end.